


The Chance of Life

by cathybites



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-22
Updated: 2011-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/pseuds/cathybites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Jared is a hockey player.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chance of Life

**Author's Note:**

> so, as some of you probably know, I've been toying around with a J2 hockey AU. um, this is not it, but it's a prequel - can you have prequels for things that haven't been written yet? anyways, I was working on a timeline for Jared's backstory and thought, 'hell, just write it.' plus, I didn't want to let the year end without one last story. so. here you go. title is from a quote by Stephen Leacock .

Jared is five the first time he puts on a pair of skates. They've been living in Minnesota for several months, and a week after the first snowfall, while everything is still covered in a blanket of white, the next-door neighbor, Chad, comes over and invites him and Jeff over to try out their new backyard rink.

Neither he nor Jeff have skates of their own, so they take turns using an old pair of Chad's. Jared watches, fascinated, as Chad leads Jeff around, trying to get him to fall. When it's finally Jared's turn, he can barely keep still to let Mr. Murray lace up the skates. They're stuffed with newspaper, and Jared wiggles his toes against it, feeling it crinkle. As soon as Mr. Murray is done, Jared's up and headed for the ice, only to wipeout as soon as he hits the slick surface. Chad and Jeff howl in laughter, and Jared's cheeks burn in embarrassment, but he pushes himself back up and tries again.

Eventually, Chad and Jeff head in to play video games, bored with skating and the cold. But Mr. Murray stays out with Jared, teaching him how to push off the skates, how to stop and turn. By the time Mrs. Murray calls them in for dinner, Jared is bruised all over, but he can skate the length of the rink by himself, smiling in delight.

  
\---

  
Jared is seven and the tallest kid on his mites team. He's also the fastest skater, and last season he'd worked his way onto the top line, playing right wing. They have a new coach this year, though, and he takes one look at Jared at the first practice and assigns him to defense.

He hates it. He stumbles and falls every time he tries to skate backwards, and he can never remember to stay in position. It seems like every time he's on the ice, he's scrambling to catch up with everyone else.

About a month into it, everything suddenly clicks. He's still not as steady skating backwards as he is forward, but it's easier. They have a scrimmage with another team, and when one of their forwards goes on a breakaway, Jared is there to meet him with a hipcheck. The other kid goes sprawling, and Jared looks up at Coach Patrick and beams.

That's when somebody steals the puck and scores on them, and Jared wants to kick himself. Instead, he turns his focus onto the game, and it's the last time anyone from the other team scores when he's on the ice.

Halfway through the season, Coach Patrick pulls Jared and his dad aside after practice. "Is everything okay?" Jared's dad asks.

"Everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you about Jared's options."

Jared and his dad look at each other, then the coach. Jared doesn't follow all of it, but what he gets is: Coach thinks he should be playing at the next level. He's not sure what the next level is, but his dad looks proud, and Coach smiles at him and shakes his hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

When they get home, his mom isn't happy about it. She's afraid he'll get hurt playing against older boys, or humiliated, or discouraged. But Jared's dad wears her down, promising to pull him if any of that happens, and the next day, Jared is back at the rink, playing with the squirts.

At first, it's just like that first month after he switched to defense. He can't keep up with the older boys, and they don't take it easy on him. The first few practices, he wants to give up. But he thinks about his dad, how proud he looked, and Jared keeps going. Soon enough, he's passing by the rest of them.

  
\---

  
Jared is fourteen when he opens the mailbox one day and finds a letter from Shattuck-Saint Mary's. He blinks, tries to catch his breath that has suddenly skittered out of control. The envelope shakes in his hand, and it takes him a moment to realize it's his hand shaking. His whole body, really. He's frozen to the spot, staring at it. It's a standard business-size envelope, but it has a bit of thickness to it. A rejection letter would be just one page, he thinks. Tries to convince himself of it. He takes a deep breath, then another, and rips it open.

He doesn't get past "Congratulations" before he's whooping in joy, tearing up the driveway. "I'm in! I'm in!" he yells, startling his parents. He shows them the letter, and his mom smiles and his dad pats him on the back, tells Jared how proud he is. "When Jeff gets home," his dad says, "we'll head out for a celebratory dinner."

Jared grins and nods, then sprints over to the Murrays. Chad's the only one home, and when Jared tells him, he says, "No fuckin' way."

"Seriously! I wouldn't bullshit about this."

Chad grins and punches Jared in the arm. "Yeah, just remember who was the one who taught you how to skate."

Jared punches him back, and throws in a hipcheck. "Yeah, your dad while you stood there and laughed at me, asshole."

"Hey, I was just building character in you," Chad says, and Jared pushes him into the wall, getting him in a headlock. Chad shrieks and flails at Jared, and then they're wrestling on the floor, smacking one another when they can. It only lasts for a few minutes before they're both winded and lying on the floor, Chad's head resting on Jared's stomach. Jared realizes that as much as he's looking forward to going to SSM, he's going to miss this. He's going to miss _Chad_. Something twists inside of him, and he says, softly, "Hey, Chad?"

Chad looks up, but Jared doesn't know what he wanted to say, or what there is to say. There's a sudden impulse to reach out and just touch him, pull him closer. Jared's hand twitches, but he keeps it still, just shakes his head and looks away. After a moment, Chad's head is back on his stomach, and he snorts. "Yeah, me too. Asshole."

Jared smiles and flicks Chad's ear. "Assmunch."

  
\---

  
Jared is sixteen when he's drafted by both Oshawa in the OHL and Green Bay in the USHL. He hadn't expected to be taken by any team, let alone two, and he has no idea what to do. His mom wants him to stay at SSM, finish school there and go onto college. His dad tells him to do whatever makes him happy.

What makes him happy? Jared's pretty sure the only answer to that is playing hockey. He lies in his bed, weighing his options. If he stays at SSM, chances are good that he'll get a scholarship, maybe even to a really good hockey school, like Michigan State or BC. If he goes the USHL route, it's pretty much the same.

But all Jared's ever wanted, ever since he was five and being led around the Murrays' backyard rink, was to go pro. Oshawa isn't a guarantee that will happen, but he thinks he's got a better shot there than anywhere else.

His mom says no, tells him that he's too young, that it's too risky, too far away from home. Jared holds his ground, though, and eventually his dad takes her to talk outside. They spend an hour out there, his mom's voice loud and panicked, his dad's soft and reassuring.

When the OHL season starts, Jared's on the third pairing. His mom stays with him that first week. She meets his billet family, talks to the coaches, asks the other parents questions. When the week is up, she's still not happy, but she smiles and hugs him tightly, tells him to take care of himself.

His defensive partner, Greg, comes up then and slings an arm around Jared's shoulder. He knuckles the top of Jared's head and says, "Don't you worry, Mrs. P. We'll keep him in line for you." She smiles at Greg gratefully and leaves.

Greg is two years older than Jared, drafted already by the Kings. He takes Jared under his wing, teaching him everything from the best way to tape up his stick to where he can buy beer for himself. On the ice, he's patient with Jared's mistakes, letting him know what he needs to works on. Off the ice, he's a partner in crime, pulling pranks on the rest of the team.

Jared worships the ground he walks on and the ice he skates on.

Then one morning he wakes up to sticky sheets, the images from his dream still bright and vivid in his head. All involving Greg - laughing, smiling, touching Jared - and Jared scrambles to the bathroom to shower.

At practice he can't even look Greg in the eye. Coach John yells at him more times than Jared can keep track of, and at the end, he has Jared skate sprints for a half-hour. When Jared finally makes it to the locker room, completely exhausted and embarrassed, Greg is there, waiting for him, concern on his face.

"Hey, you feeling okay?"

Jared sits in front of his locker and glances at Greg. He's dressed in his street clothes, but his hair is still damp from the shower, dark hair curling against his skin. Jared nods and leans down to take his skates off.

A hand lands on his shoulder, and Jared jumps, looking straight up into Greg's face. Jared can feel the flush spreading across his face, and he kicks his skates off. "I gotta..." He gestures to the showers.

Greg frowns, but he stands, stepping aside to let Jared by. "Okay, but, look. If you're having a problem or--" He pauses, then steps closer, curling a hand around Jared's shoulder. Perfectly innocent, but Jared's pulse skitters and he has to fight the urge to lean into the touch. "If you need to talk about anything, you can come to me. I promise, whatever it is, it's okay."

When Jared nods, Greg smiles and finally leaves. As the door shuts behind him, Jared sags against his locker. He's keyed up and confused, trying to sort through every thought flying through his head. Somehow, he gets undressed and into the showers. Greg's still on his mind, though, and before he can stop himself, he's got a hand around his dick, jacking off to the memories of the dream.

It's almost a relief when Greg is traded to Barrie the next week.

His new partner is a lanky kid named Bobby. He looks too small to play defense, but the first practice he lays Jared into the boards with a hit so hard it rattles his teeth. Jared shakes his head and starts to stand, and Bobby is right there to help him up. "Oh, man, I'm sorry."

"C'mon, dude, there's no apologizing in hockey," Jared says, giving Bobby a shove and a smile.

Bobby grins back, and he gives Jared a tap on the shin before skating away.

It's a different dynamic from Greg. Where Jared had felt like a novice skating with Greg, with Bobby he feels like an equal. There is a give-and-go to their partnership, an ease and natural chemistry, and before long, they're both given more minutes, working their way into the top pairing.

Even outside of the rink, Jared finds it easy to be around Bobby. On their offtime, they hang out all the time, playing video games, watching movies. He likes Bobby, and one night, sitting on the couch and watching some godawful movie together, he realizes he really likes Bobby.

He tries to bury it deep inside, tries to ignore it, and he thinks he does a pretty good job of it. Then one night, in motel room outside of Sudbury, Bobby sits next to him on Jared's bed and says, "You're into me, aren't you?"

Jared blinks, stammers out something about not knowing what Bobby was talking about. But Bobby just grins and leans over, kisses him quiet. Everything happens quickly after that, clothes yanked off until there's just skin on skin, and Jared's pretty sure he comes as soon as Bobby touches him. Jared is mortified, especially when Bobby laughs, but it's not long before he's hard again, arching up into Bobby's mouth. They spend the entire night like that, getting each other off, neither falling asleep until the sun starts to come up. At the morning skate, Jared can barely keep his eyes open, but he doesn't care. He feels good, free, and for the first time, he's looking forward to after the game more than the game itself.

  
\---

  
Jared is seventeen and three games into the season, he gets slammed into the boards by one of Guelph's defensemen. He doesn't notice anything at first, just feels the soreness all along his right side, but when he tries to get to his feet, he falls back down immediately, pain shooting up his leg.

When the x-rays come back, they show a shattered ankle, and the doctor tells Jared he's out for the season. Jared argues - it's his draft year and he can't make a good impression if he's not playing. But when it comes down to it, Jared can either let himself heal or make things worse and ruin any chance he has of going pro.

He goes back home to Minnesota, lets his mom dote over him. Bobby calls every week to let him know how the team is doing, but eventually Jared gets too depressed to hear about it, and he stops taking Bobby's calls. After a few weeks, they stop altogether. There's some guilt over it, but it's hard to find it in himself to care, not when Bobby's playing and he's not.

Watching the season pass him by sucks, but it's nothing compared to watching the draft on TV. He knows that there was little chance of him going in the first round, even if he had been healthy and able to play all season, but it still hurts seeing all the prospects get called up to the stage. They are all guys he had played against, guys he had beaten, and now they have what he wants - a shot at the NHL. He turns the TV off halfway through and goes to bed.

The next day he doesn't even bother watching the rest of the draft. He tells himself that he's just got to work harder the upcoming season, prove to the scouts and everyone else that he's good enough for the big league. He vows that next year, he's going to be at the draft and he's going to have his moment up on that stage.

Chad comes over that evening with a cake. "Congratulations, assmunch" is written on top in sloppy pink icing, and Jared stares at it, then Chad, not understanding. "Dude, did you hit your head in the excitement or something?"

"Wha--?"

The phone rings, and when Jared answers it, it's for him. Jared doesn't recognize the man's voice, or his name, but when he says he's from the Tampa Bay Lightning, Jared realizes that someone had taken a chance on him after all. He listens carefully, writes down everything the man says. He says, "Yes, sir," and, "No, sir," and, "Yes, I understand, sir, thank you. Thank you so much," before hanging up.

Chad hits him in the shoulder and says, "Well?"

Jared grins down at the paper he had written on, then at Chad. He yells and tackles Chad to the ground, smashing the cake between them. He doesn't care about the mess, though, because in three days he's to report to the Lightning's prospect camp. It's not a promise, but it's a chance, and that's all Jared wants.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. In the US, mites teams are comprised of kids 8 and under. Squirts are aged 9-10, pee-wee is 11-12, bantam is 13-14, and midget is 15-18, usually divided into 16-and-under and 18-and-under.
> 
> 2\. Shattuck-Saint Mary's is a boarding school in Minnesota, best known for its athletic programs, which includes a highly regarded hockey program.
> 
> 3\. The Ontario Hockey League and the United States Hockey League are two minor hockey leagues in North America. Players typically range from 16-20. It's possible to be drafted by any number of the minor leagues, but players are allowed to only play for one. While the USHL is strictly amateur, the OHL is semi-pro; players who opt for it are ineligible to later compete in NCAA hockey.
> 
> 4\. The NHL Entry Draft takes place in June, a couple of weeks following the last playoff game. Players who are under the age of 20 and will be 18 by September 15 of their draft year are eligible; non-North Americans over the age of 20 are also eligible.
> 
> 5\. "Hockey captures the essence of Canadian experience in the New World. In a land so inescapably and inhospitably cold, hockey is the chance of life, and an affirmation that despite the deathly chill of winter we are alive." - Stephen Leacock


End file.
